


Hand Of Sorrow

by cazmalfoy



Category: CSI: Miami, CSI: NY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life, he prayed for both but was denied...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand Of Sorrow

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away lived a beautiful Queen and her equally handsome King.

For many years they longed for a child of their own, to continue the royal bloodline.

Hundreds of prayers were sent to God, begging for good fortune to be bestowed upon them.

It was a dark stormy night when their prayers were answered and the first child the Queen had carried to term was delivered and discovered to be a healthy boy, who would one day make a fine heir to the throne.

To the Kings dismay, the Queen had not been strong enough to survive past her son’s first moments, leaving the child motherless.

A guardian was appointed for the boy; a powerful Knight whom he trusted more than any other despite his youthful age of fifteen. His son would be in capable hands, he knew it and found he could once again sleep easy.

~

Timothy bit his lip as he concentrated on shining his boots. He had been performing the same task for almost an hour and the leather was still as muddy as it had been then.

He wiped his brow and took a long drink from the goblet of wine that lay nearby. The sun was beginning to set and his free time would be over soon, which meant returning to the castle where he would once again resume his duties of royal baby-sitter for the sixteen-year-old prince.

When his father sent to the castle all those years before, to become one of the King’s Knights; surely his present status was not what he had in mind for his only son.

The Prince was waiting for him as he wearily made his way up the hill to the castle gates.

"You shouldn’t be out here alone, sir," Timothy said sullenly, pushing the gates open and entering the grounds.

"I’m perfectly safe," the Prince pouted, following Timothy inside. "Besides, I was waiting for you."

"You were waiting for me?" the Knight asked incredulously, turning a corner and heading toward the teenager’s rooms.

"Timothy," the Prince said seriously, stopping in his tracks.

The brunette turned and looked at the younger man. "Is there something wrong, sir?" he asked, trying to ignore him when the Prince inched closer and closer.

"My name is Daniel," the Prince whispered. "You can call me that."

"I think that would be inappropriate, your highness." Timothy swallowed nervously.

"It would only be inappropriate if I didn’t desire your advances," Prince Daniel purred, pressing himself against Timothy’s body.

"T-This is wrong," Timothy stammered, willing his body to not respond to Daniel’s actions when soft hands slid inside his tunic.

Daniel smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of the Knight’s mouth. "You’re right," he agreed. "It’ll be safer in my quarters."

Before the Knight could protest, Daniel had proceeded to pull Timothy down the corridor before sealing them both in the Prince’s quarters, where neither would be seen until the early hours of the following morning.

~

The walk back to his cottage seemed longer than any previous journey. His heart felt heavy in his chest and his shoulders felt equally as heavy with guilt. His skin seemed to sting under his tunic, where Daniel’s touch still lingered.

At the bottom of the hill a small church sat, it’s doors always open to the town’s occupants who required forgiveness or guidance.

It had been a long time since he had entered the church and as he pushed the doors open he couldn’t help feeling like a trespasser on private property.

The emblem on his tunic commanded a certain amount of respect, which was displayed when an elderly nun bowed her head upon spotting him.

"Sir, the priest is asleep at such an hour," she advised him. "I can wake him if you desire."

Timothy shook his head. "That won’t be necessary, sister. Would it be a problem if I sit for a while?"

"Of course not," she assured him before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

With a stride usually associated with a condemned soul, Timothy made his way to the altar where he knelt and crossed himself slowly.

"Forgive me, Lord," he spoke quietly to the large cross over the alter. "It has been several months since I last attended communion. However, I feel I must ask for your guidance."

"I have broken my vow to the King. I was entrusted with the protection of his son and now I feel I can no longer provide a service such as what his Majesty requires."

"I took his son to bed, Lord. Prince Daniel approached me with sexual advances and I feel I did not do everything in my power to stop him."

"I’m lost, my Lord. I know it is against everything I’ve been taught to believe but Daniel makes me feel things I haven’t felt since my late wife, Elizabeth passed. I need your guidance, father."

After a solid hour of pleading, Timothy rose from his seat, [crossing himself] before heading to the exit.

The elderly nun offered him a sad smile as she pressed a rosary into the palm of his hand. For a fleeting moment, he thought she might have overheard his prayers, however she simply kissed his forehead and wished him a good night.

The rain was beating heavily against the bricks, penetrating his tunic and soaking his skin with painful icicles. 

A warm bath did little to ease his troubles, nor did a full night’s sleep with dreams filled with talented hands and startlingly blue eyes.

~

"Timothy!" Daniel breathed when he saw the Knight enter his quarters the next evening. "I was expecting you."

His blue eyes travelled over to the large bed that was waiting for them.

"That’s what I came here to discuss with you, sir." Timothy took a deep breath. "This cannot continue, it would be improper for us to engage in such activities. I am your guardian, assigned by your father. Any breach of that oath would be dishonourable on my part."

"I understand your need to protect your oath, Timothy," Daniel smiled, approaching the taller man. "And you’re loyalty is very noble and commendable. However, it worries me that while you are fulfilling your oath, no one is fulfilling your needs."

As he spoke, the blonde’s hand ran down Timothy’s chest, toward his awakening groin.

"Be that as it may," Timothy cleared his throat. "Your father…"

"My father is old and no longer cares for what I do." Daniel silenced him with a kiss, plunging his tongue into the older man’s mouth.

Timothy tried to resist the Prince, however his self-control failed to be strong enough, for it wasn’t long before both he and Daniel were lying on the bed, wrapped tightly in each other’s embrace.

~

King Mackenzie followed his advisor down the hall. "I hope you have something to support your allegations, Horatio."

"I do, your Majesty," the redhead assured the King. "Timothy was seen leaving the Prince’s quarters shortly before sunrise this morning."

"I hope you’re wrong, Caine," Mackenzie snarled, withdrawing a set of keys from his robe and unlocking the door.

"Daniel!" he called, entering the room. "Forgive the intrusion, however Caine is under the impression…"

"You!" the King spat, seeing his most trusted Knight wrapped up in the arms of his only heir. "Guards!" 

Seconds later, two guards entered the room, pulling the Knight away from Timothy.

"Donald," the King addressed the taller of the two. "I want this man put to death immediately."

"Yes, sir," Donald nodded, pulling the brunette from the room.

"Father, please," Daniel begged. "Please reconsider."

Mackenzie looked down at his son, his cold eyes softening as he gazed upon his son. 

"It’s very clear this man coerced you into doing something you would never consider doing. He needs to be punished for his actions. Only God can forgive him now."

~

The sun was beginning to rise over the hillside, the large walls casting a shadow over the courtyard. From the shadows, Daniel watched with tears falling down his face as the executioner led Timothy to the hangman’s noose.

His finger clutched tightly on Timothy’s rosary as Donald gave the order to proceed. He grimaced when he didn’t hear a snapping of bones; instead he heard a sharp intake of breath, indicating that his lover’s neck had not broken and he would now be forced to endure suffocation due to the ligature around his neck.

Not able to watch Timothy die, Daniel turned and fled from the castle grounds. Timothy’s death was his fault and his whole body wracked with tears of guilt as he felt to the altar at the front of the church Timothy had visited the previous night, unbeknown to him.

The elderly nun who had witnessed Timothy’s confession to God, recognised the rosary the young blonde was holding and immediately pulled him into her arms, knowing this was the youth he was asking forgiveness for.

"God will take care of him now," she assured him, crossing herself and praying for both souls over Daniel as he wept for his lover.


End file.
